Routine and Surprises
by rallamajoop
Summary: Watanuki decides there are certain things Doumeki needs explained to him, in a manner assuring no possible further misunderstandings. [DoumekixWatanuki]
1. Chapter 1

**Notes: **Brief spoilers for around volume 9, no other real warnings though.

* * *

It's one of those impressive things about the world that, given enough repetition, even life and death experiences can develop a sort of familiar routine. Not to Doumeki himself, perhaps, since he's always been hard to impress, but in the more general sense there's something reassuring about it. The fine detail might vary – all the whats and hows of whatever supernatural horror they're up against today, but Watanuki has seen enough rescues now to have become the ultimate critic, and he's not the least reserved about reminding Doumeki of that. And here the routine comes in – once the danger's over and the day has been saved, Watanuki's going to find a reason to yell at him. 

"What the _hell_ was that supposed to be?"

They're on their way home (or anywhere more civilized, with no monsters to try to eat anyone). Watanuki is ahead, maintaining just the right distance between them that he can yell without fear of being misheard, while at the same time making it clear that he wants nothing to do with anyone who might happen to be following him. This part is less essential, but it's practically routine as well – Doumeki finds himself reflecting idly on just how many of these conversations get conducted with Watanuki's retreating back.

"That was me saving your life?" he suggests blandly.

He might as well not have bothered – Watanuki is in full rant mode, contributions offered to the conversation courtesy of other people would be lucky not to get the answering machine.

"What the hell were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all?"

Doumeki would have to admit he really hadn't been doing much thinking at that time, but as far as he'd been concerned, it hadn't been a situation that required it. When Watanuki had turned to look at him in horror, treating Doumeki to the half-vision image of himself with a giant mass of living smoke rising up behind himself like an incoming wave, he definitely hadn't stopped to think. He hadn't stopped to wonder whether this was a hint they'd done a less than thorough job of taking care of that last monster or whether it had had an identical twin; he'd just known that this time, he wasn't going to risk anything less than a direct hit. The sequence went: push Watanuki well out of harm's way, locate bow, turn around, ready himself through each step from _ashimbumi_ to _kai_, then wait for the right moment, in that order. It was true that the first step did mean that Watanuki was no longer in any position where Doumeki could collect anything of value from the loan of that eye, but he hadn't had the time to go through the messy mental geometry that would have been necessary to aim based on that anyway (or, to rephrase, he hadn't thought about that either).

Maybe it hadn't been entirely necessary for him to wait until he could feel unseen tendrils wrapping around his arms and Watanuki's view of him showed nothing more than a writhing mass of smoke, until – so much for seeing – he could practically _taste_ where the thing had to be. But high school-variety kyudo has never dealt him a lot of practical experience with invisible moving targets. He'd just wanted to be sure.

Out loud, Doumeki sticks to summarising. "It went the way I planned it."

"It nearly _didn't_," says Watanuki, taking time out to check his messages for a change. "And what kind of stupid plan was that anyway?! Did you have a plan for what were you going to do if it didn't work?'"

"Yes, I was going to stand there and let it chew on me while you ran for it," says Doumeki, since the odds look to be about fifty-fifty that Watanuki will even hear him.

Watanuki stops and whirls around so fast that his follower nearly walks into him, leaving them so close together that Doumeki is going cross-eyed trying to see the end of the shorter boy's nose. This doesn't appear to bother Watanuki, however, who just glares right up into his face as if the few centimeters of height that separates them had been arranged as a personal insult. "You," he growls," are not getting it." Then, as if this was just what you do to people who have the nerve to be maybe a little taller than you, Watanuki grabs him by the collar and kisses him.

Three things are more or less immediate at this point – firstly that Watanuki has never kissed anyone before, secondly that he has only the most rudimentary of idea of how this whole kissing thing is meant to work, and thirdly, that he isn't letting any of that slow him down for a second. Since a second isn't much less than the total time the kiss lasts for anyway, this means Doumeki is only barely given time to figure out what's going on before it's over.

"Oh," he says vaguely, once it is. That part definitely wasn't part of the routine Doumeki was used to.

"You are _never_ doing that again," Watanuki informs him, in the kind of voice that turns every punctuation mark into a projectile weapon. "The answer where _I_ get away while _you_ deal with all the dangerous stuff with the giant floating thing with the teeth _is not going to scrape you through with a passing grade_. It is _not even part of the syllabus_. It is out of the question, _understand_?"

"Oh," says Doumeki again, because there are a few less synapses firing in his brain than usual. Watanuki is still in his face, and just breathing is taking him some serious concentration.

Grudgingly satisfied, Watanuki takes a step away. He resumes marching home as though he intends to deal with anything that might bother them for the rest of the day by trampling it into the ground.

"I can break it down into smaller words if you're still not getting the picture here!" An arm is waved for emphasis on this bit, as though to suggest that whatever it is Watanuki is breaking down is very large and requires a lot of pounding.

To Doumeki, parts of this are starting to sound less than reasonable. He may not especially enjoy dealing with some of the more interesting things Watanuki is known to attract, but he'd like to think he's the expert on the matter here, and it's not a safe activity. There's always plenty of danger to go around where this sort of stuff is involved, and there's no call for Watanuki to start hogging all of it. "I'm supposed to learn to rescue you from a distance, am I?"

Watanuki does his stop-and-whirl thing for the second time in that conversation. "You," he says, "still do not seem to be getting the point."

Doumeki has a little more warning before the second kiss to get ready for it, but it's still over before he has anything more than the chance to start to think that, perhaps, given the opportunity to find out, he might be able to enjoy more of this. He can't help but feel that Watanuki is being quite spectacularly unfair about this; even if he is making it very clear that this wouldn't be happening at all without the excuse of getting across an inventively communicated point.

"If you get yourself killed," says Watanuki firmly, "I am going to have to be very unhappy about it. Not just because I'll be paying back Yuuko for the rest of my life if she starts stepping in to rescue me instead. Not just because I am _not_ putting up with your restless ghost for the rest of my life. Not just because I do not want to deal with having to clean up the mess. _Are you finally starting to figure out what I'm getting at yet?_"

"Alright," says Doumeki, feeling dazed and a little irritated to realize that Watanuki is actually developing a worryingly effective debating technique here.

"Well it's about time!"

Walking resumes without further incident. Doumeki thinks quietly for a bit.

"Next time," he suggests, safe in the knowledge that the inevitability of a next time would put even hitsuzen to shame, "if I manage to rescue you without putting myself in danger, will I get to kiss you back?"

"That sound you are making is the sound of you getting so far ahead of yourself that I don't know how you can still tell where you're going!"

"Or do I have to let you rescue me for that?"

"There is a problem with this conversation now, and it is the part where you keep talking!"

"It could be good incentive for me to remember all this, for example."

That must have been about it for the count down. A minor explosion takes place on the footpath ahead of Doumeki. He blocks his ears, but mostly just by habit.

It figures that Watanuki would approach courtship the same way he approaches just about every other aspect of life in which Doumeki is involved – which is to say, with about twice the energy and half the finesse usually warranted, and a lot of shouting. At this very moment, Doumeki can't imagine wanting it any other way. He's not someone naturally designed for expressions like big, goofy grins, but there's a feeling in his head and spreading through his chest right now which might be something like how one would feel on the inside.

When you find yourself in the situations that life with Watanuki attracts, there's something reassuring about having something familiar to look forward to afterwards, even if it does involve Watanuki shouting at him. But surprises – sometimes those aren't so bad either.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes: **A little darker than part 1, mood-wise. This was originally posted over at LJ under the title 'Conversation on the floor of a not-quite-empty house', but that doesn't quite fit into the space for a chapter title over here. Immediately preceding events are left to the reader's imagination.

* * *

When Doumeki's vision starts to focus, the first thing he sees is an unfamiliar ceiling. The second is the pissed off Watanuki who's standing over him. 

"I thought," Watanuki says, arms folded stiffly, "that we talked about this."

"Talked about what?" Doumeki has to ask. Either he's got a concussion, or after twenty seconds of consciousness Watanuki has already given him a headache, and it's going to be a while before he's awake enough to decide which.

"You didn't hit your head that hard, what do you think?" Watanuki snaps. "I mean that thing where you let yourself keep getting beaten up because of something that was after _me!_"

"You'd rather you got beaten up?" suggests Doumeki irritably. He's finally starting to remember where they are and what's going on, and it's not a pleasant experience – even less so given that, since they clearly haven't made it out of the building, it's probably not over yet.

"I don't want anyone getting hurt," Watanuki assures him. "Not that you don't deserve it, with some of your stupid behaviour, but that is still not the point!"

"Why not?" Gingerly, Doumeki tries sitting up, and is pleased to discover this works without making his head feel any worse.

"Because you…" Watanuki starts.

"Oi," Doumeki cuts him off, not in any sort of mood to hear more of this. And maybe he does have a head injury doing the thinking for him, but the first way to make sure of that which comes to him is to grab Watanuki as high up the front of his shirt as is in reach from the floor, and drag him down. Before Watanuki can recover enough to complain about this treatment, Doumeki kisses him. It's as good a way to shut him up as any, though – head injury or not – Doumeki wouldn't even try to pretend that's the only reason.

What reaction this would get him he hadn't thought as far as to guess, but Watanuki kisses him back without hesitation – hard, hands fisting in the back of Doumeki's shirt to pull him closer. It's not just an angry sort of kiss, not like their first two from what now seems like an age ago, this is Watanuki being honestly, horribly glad Doumeki's okay. Realising that makes it all the harder to pull away.

Doumeki hadn't put much thought into how long this would last either, but the kiss definitely continues much longer than he'd first intended.

He moves back at last. Watanuki still looks angry, but at least he stays silent long enough for what Doumeki needs to say.

"I don't want you dying either." Doumeki hadn't expected to hear that hoarse quality creeping into his own voice until it reaches his own ears, he's surprised by how unlike him it sounds. "We talked about that too."

Watanuki, at least, seems to accept this fairly well, which is to say he sighs and slumps down, the combined weight pushing them both back to the marginally less awkward position of being flat on his back on the floor. "I never said I wanted you to let me _die _," Watanuki says, his voice coming from where his head is resting on Doumeki's chest. "I _like_ being alive. I intend to do a lot more of it. But I'm the one that attracts all those spirits and there's nothing I can do about it. And I might have mentioned how I really, really don't like it when you put yourself in danger to bail me out."

It shouldn't be so unfamiliar to hear Watanuki express an interest in his own self-preservation – and if it has to be unfamiliar, it should at least be a relief – but there's a traitorous part of Doumeki that has to wonder whether this is a sentiment Watanuki will remember next time it counts. He's seen more than once just how much Watanuki can be convinced to throw away to help someone he perceives as in need – in those moments, Doumeki had discovered a kind of anger he'd never before realised himself capable of. And if that's how it's going to be, who is Watanuki to forbid someone else from doing the same, to suggest his life is worth somehow less than Doumeki's life would be?

"I'll offer you a compromise," Doumeki says.

"What did you have in mind?" Watanuki asks. His fingers smooth over the fabric of the shirt beneath him, ever so slightly. Doumeki is carefully not distracted by watching them.

One of his arms is still wrapped around Watanuki's shoulders, and it takes some concentration not to mimic the movement of the smaller boys fingers with his own. "I won't put myself in any more danger than you get yourself in. That's all I'm promising."

"That sounds like a weighted offer to me." Watanuki sounds skeptical.

"If it helps, I don't have any intention of throwing my life away to save you."

"That's better," Watanuki grouches, still not sounding quite convinced.

"I mean it," Doumeki tells him honestly, then adds, "If I died, you'd only go and waste all my good work by getting yourself killed the next time."

"I am not just here for you to rescue, you know," Watanuki complains at him.

"You're not," Doumeki agrees.

There's silence for a bit.

"We still have to get out of here," Doumeki says eventually, still very much aware of the warm mass of Watanuki resting on his chest. "We should get up."

"Yeah," Watanuki agrees vaguely. His fingers still, but don't leave Doumeki's chest; the weight of his body stays where it is.

Neither of them move.

They did get up and leave, of course, but they didn't do it right away.


End file.
